Carried Along
by Faye Dartmouth
Summary: After Obi-Wan becomes one with the Force in ANH, he meets up with the one person who might have hurt him more than Anakin.


This story is kind of a missing scene during ANH and a conclusion to the way the relationship between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan ended.  There seems to be some unresolved issues between those two, and this is just my way of having them finally hash it out (in the actual Star Wars timeline!).  It's a little overly-sentimental—sorry, bad habit.  Oh, and I decided to just not even deal with the fact that Qui-Gon didn't disappear and Obi-Wan did.  I'm not even sure what that signifies, although I've read enough stuff out there to get some ideas.  So this may not fit in with whatever theories there are about that phenomenon, but I didn't try to make it fit.

Carried Along

"In death I shall become more powerful than you could ever imagine," Obi-Wan taunted boldly.  He could not see Vader's face, his expressions hidden behind the bleak breathing mask.  But Obi-Wan knew the person behind the mask; he knew the mind that was behind the lightsaber moves.  He had trained this man—that boy—and his skills and flaws were still the same.  Anakin had been confident in his own skills since he was young, and although Obi-Wan would never indulge the boy's predictions of grandeur, he had always known he was right.  Anakin had been the most skilled Jedi he had ever seen.  He could have been more wise and powerful than Master Yoda.  But Anakin surrendered himself to the Dark.  Anakin was no more.  But there was a flicker from behind the mask, one that Obi-Wan could only sense with the Force, a trace of the boy he had once trained.  His potential squandered in mass destruction.  Obi-Wan's fault.  Now he could only do one last service to Anakin, to Luke, to the galaxy.  He could die.

His death would be a harbinger, he already knew.  His fleeting days were already as much.  He was among the last of the Jedi.  For all he knew, he was the last of the Jedi.  The only one that he knew remained for sure was locked behind a lifetime of evil and filtered through a breathing mask.  His life's work had been to train Luke, and now his death would be the catalyst to push Luke into fighting.  There was nothing like a martyr to inspire a cause.  It was his last act, perhaps his greatest act.

Vader only hesitated for a moment before he delivered the final blow.  Obi-Wan did not avoid it, but accepted it with a knowing smile on his face.  His heart was not as confident as his façade, but for the sake of unsettling Vader, he would play the part.  Was he only inspiring Luke to face death?  To face the Darkness?  And if Luke fell to the Darkness—what guilt would he have in millennia of Darkness?  But still he smiled, willfully until the moment he hit the floor.

Death came upon Obi-Wan in silence.  The brief passage from existence to the Force was clean, easy—peaceful.  He was home, he thought, where he finally belonged.  And when he opened his eyes to the existential life he now had, he was suddenly afraid, the endless and consuming whiteness made him squint.  He understood it now—he understood how the Force bonded the universe together.  But as he communed with the Force, he felt a multitude of pangs and twitches of emotion.  The Living Force.  Luke.  His mind raced as he thought of the tenuous task ahead of the boy when a familiar presence suddenly stopped him.

"Obi-Wan, you must slow down."

Trembling, Obi-Wan turned.  He no longer felt the rigors of his aged body or the confinements by the limitations of his flesh but his soul still lurched uneasily in the Force.  "Qui-Gon," he said quietly, meeting his master's clam gaze.

"Yes, Obi-Wan," his master said with a serene expression.

There were so many things Obi-Wan wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to have answers to, but despite all the years that had passed since Qui-Gon's death, he could not formulate anything.  Swallowing, he stepped toward his master.  "It's been a long time," he finally said meekly.

"Not as long as you think," Qui-Gon replied.  Obi-Wan said nothing, speechless in the face of the confrontation he had thought of his entire Knighted life.  Qui-Gon continued.  "I have been waiting for you."

"For me?" Obi-Wan asked doubtfully.

"Yes."

His grief and remorse surfaced, mixing with the pain that lasted so many years.  Looking away, Obi-Wan suggested dejectedly, "So you could tell me all I've done wrong?"

"No," Qui-Gon said.  "To show you all that you've done right."

Obi-Wan's self control shattered.  "All that I've done right?!" he cried indignantly.  "If you ask me, pretty much everything I've done has been a mistake."

"You have made no more mistakes than anyone else."

"Maybe so, but mind have cost the galaxy greatly."

"You really do blame your own arrogance," Qui-Gon noted, mild surprise in his voice.

"I believed I could train Anakin.  I ignored the advice of the Council.  And I failed."

"But you do not just blame yourself," Qui-Gon observed.

"I was Anakin's master.  His training of the Light was my responsibility."

"Jedi do not lie."

Obi-Wan met Qui'Gon's eyes defiantly.  "The Jedi are gone."

"Do not let the darkness win you over by losing your faith in the Code."

"The Code is lost because of my works."

"Do not lie to me, Obi-Wan.  I know your soul.  And I have been watching you."

"I am not lying."

"You blame me."

Obi-Wan stiffened.

"You blame me for making you train Anakin."

"I will not shirk my responsibility by passing the blame."

"You believed he was dangerous."

"But I thought I could control him!" Obi-Wan said.  "I believed that with caution and knowledge of his danger I could save him.  I overestimated my ability."

"No, you underestimated the Dark side."

"Does it matter?  I still shoulder this burden for eternity."

"Do you forget that all are one in the Force?"

"But I am still me.  And you are still you.  And there is still a Living Force.  And Luke is alone now to face the mess I have made.  I fear I have done nothing except condemn his soul as well."

"You told Vader that your death would make you stronger."

"Impulsive words of battle.  Overconfidence. Yoda lectured me on that fault so many times."

"Obi-Wan—"

"What do you really want, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan interrupted, his nerves brittle.  "What is the point of this idle conversation while the galaxy is still in bondage?"

"I have found peace, and I am here to help you find it as well."

"Peace?  At the cost of surrender to helplessness?"

"Padawan—"

"I am not your Padawan!" Obi-Wan screamed back with a sudden anger and bitterness that surprised him, but Qui-Gon appeared unaffected by the outburst.  His voice echoed in silence through the still air.  His whole essence shook with emotion as he tried to regain his composure.

"I have hurt you."

Obi-Wan didn't respond to the admission.  "You gave me up.  You let me go.  You chose Anakin even in the very end.  Why don't you save your comfort and wisdom for him."

"Obi-Wan—"

"You wanted the truth, so let me speak.  I have had many years to remember and recount every mistake, every word.  I have rethought every moment of my life, seeing how it could have been. I have watched you die a thousand times in my nightmares.  And my heart broke every time. But the greatest pain comes in your last words. While my world fell apart, you offered me no solace.  You didn't even see the tears.  You saw Anakin.  I loved you more than he ever would—I needed you, I wanted to be you, and you had no thought of me.  It's selfish and childish of me, but all I ever wanted was a goodbye.  And instead you broke my soul."

"I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan stared in disbelief.  "Sorry?"

"I cannot undo what I have done—or not done.  I can only bear the guilt that is rightfully mine."

"After all these years, that is the only explanation I get?  Did our time together mean nothing?"

"It meant everything.  Obi-Wan, you were my world, my everything.  I have always loved you.  But in my final moments I forgot the very thing I always reminded you of—The Living Force.  I forsook that which was living and breathing in front of me for hopes for the future.  I was mindful of the future at the expense of the moment.  My arrogance has cost you greatly."

"My choices and actions were mine and mine alone," Obi-Wan whispered, his voice raspy from his emotions.

"As were Anakin's," Qui-Gon pointed out.  Obi-Wan's eyes darted up to his master's piercing blue eyes.  Obi-Wan was much older now, so aged, that Qui-Gon could see little physical resemblance of the boy he had taken as his Padawan.  But in Obi-Wan's muddy blue eyes, he saw a familiar look.  The look of tentative hope.  A hope he dared not venture, but that he could also not contain.  Obi-Wan had given him this gaze two other times that Qui-Gon could remember.  The first was when Obi-Wan was only 12 years old, a proud and scared boy, needing a master.  He had cast that gaze upon Qui-Gon, who had shied away from it uncomfortably.  The look had haunted him, though, while he watched the boy fight on Bandomeer.  He could not deny the look.

The second time was when he had returned to help Obi-Wan on Melida/Daan.  The boy had broken his heart, his trust then.  But when Qui-Gon saw the boy standing there, the hope flickering in his eyes, it churned uneasily within him.  While both times before he had been slow to realize the boy's hopes were justified, this time he had no hesitation.

Obi-Wan was searching for many things.  There were three things Qui-Gon could offer him, all of which were long overdue—forgiveness, an apology, and love.  His expression gentle, he continued, "You are not responsible for Anakin's fall.  You focus on what might have been.  You do not know what might have been.  The past is solid and unchangeable.  We should not dwell on it, but rather glean from it information we can learn from to change the future."

Averting his eyes downward, Obi-Wan's voice dropped uncertainly.  "But I should have been more careful, I should have—"

"I should have heeded the Council.  I should have defeated the Sith.  I should have told you then all the things that went unspoken between us," Qui-Gon finished instead.  Obi-Wan looked back up at his master.  "I am sorry."

"As am I," he said hoarsely.

"I never meant to hurt you.  I didn't even think.  I thought you always knew, but I never told you, so I guess you always had to wonder."

Obi-Wan could say nothing without his composure crumbling completely.  He remained still and stoic as he listened.

Qui-Gon went on.  "You are my son.  You have become a better man and a better Jedi than I could have ever hoped or dreamed.  You have made me proud.  You have made my life worthy.  You have completed me.  You existence was the reason for my existence.  I loved you then," he said, then after a moment, he added, "And I love you now."

The words he had needed to hear seemed strange now.  He felt himself on the cold metal floor on Naboo, holding his master, the tears welling up in his eyes.  These words sounded right, but distant.  Somewhere inside of him the wounds were beginning to heal, but he still felt empty.  "But what about Anakin?"

"Anakin?  It was the will of the Force that I find him.  It was the will of the Force that you should train him.  I would have trained him had I not died.  He was the Chosen One.  I know that for certain."

"But he turned," Obi-Wan argued.  "He has thrown the Force completely out of balance."

"Perhaps," Qui-Gon conceded.  "But without the extremely off-kilter rule of Darkness, could Light ever truly prevail?  The Dark times will make the balance for the Light times to come.  We all assumed that balance spoke of in the prophecy would come in the Living Force, but it was to be measured in the greater Force of time."

"You mean Anakin was predestined to fall?"

Qui-Gon merely shrugged.  "What is destiny and do we control it?  What is the meaning of life?  The answers to these questions is for only the Force to know and even in death, they still elude us."

"But the prophecy…."

"We all have our choices, and they are ours to make.  Perhaps prophecy and predestination are nothing more than the foreknowledge of our choices before we make them."

"Was Anakin not the reason for your life then?"

"No.  I found him, and I was sure of him, but I was not the one meant to train him.  I was impulsive in that assumption.  It was always you, Obi-Wan."

"But your dying words…"

"Eternity allows us the time to sort out the things we don't understand in life.  I have thought much of that day and of those words.  I have seen how it has tormented you.  And I see how we are all linked by the Force.  My pain affected you, your pain affected Anakin, Anakin's pain…affected the galaxy," Qui-Gon said.  Cautiously he moved closer to the Jedi.  Placing a hand upon Obi-Wan's shoulder, he forced the Jedi to meet his eyes.  "Do you forgive me, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan looked uncertain for a moment, the years of pain clouding the peace being offered to him.  But the tired soul won out in the end, and the bitterness of the years slipped away to reveal the bond that had never left them.  "I forgive you, Master," he said, his voice soft but strong, his soul weighed down but suddenly free.

A smile spread out over Qui-Gon's face.  With his hand still on Obi-Wan's shoulder, he pulled his old apprentice close to him.  At first, Obi-Wan seemed hesitant to be enveloped in the embrace, but his tension melted into the healing warmth of forgiveness.  They stayed locked in a paternal embrace for a moment, then Qui-Gon pulled away, his gaze falling proudly on Obi-Wan.  "Good," he said.  "Now, you must go.  Your work is not yet done."

Although the rift between them had been mended, Obi-Wan now had a new focus.  His mortality.  He looked confused at Qui-Gon.  "But I am dead," he said plaintively.

"But not finished," Qui-Gon countered.  "You have ascended your former existence, not abandoned it."

"What do you mean?"

"Luke needs you."

"But how can I help him now?  I have given him training and motivation.  I fear for him, but my anxiety cannot help him."

Suddenly the scene changed.  Instead of the sheer whiteness, Obi-Wan found himself on Solo's ship.  He was distanced from the action somehow, but he could clearly see it unfolding.  Luke, Han and the Wookiee were making their escape.

"Stay with him," Qui-Gon said simply.

"Can he…?"

"See you?" Qui-Gon guessed.  "No, not yet.  Show yourself to him when the time is appropriate."

"But…how?"

"You will know when it is time."

"Master…."

"I am no longer your master, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon interjected gently.  "You are a Jedi Knight.  You do not need my guidance.  The answers are within you, surely you must know that."

Obi-Wan looked ready to speak, but Qui-Gon's smile stopped him.

"There will be plenty of time for words later.  Right now, duty calls you."

Qui-Gon began to fade, but Obi-Wan stopped him.  "Did you…watch over me?"

"Qui-Gon's eyes shone.  "Of course I did, my son."

"Why didn't you show yourself to me?"

This time Qui-Gon's smile was more true and more sincere and unreserved than Obi-Wan could remember.  "You never needed me," the Master replied.  "You thought you did.  When you cried for your loss, you feared your inadequacies.  You thought your training was incomplete.  You thought that it was my guidance that carried you.  But in truth, you always carried yourself, and you carried me along with you."

The master's essence was intangible, and it dissipated slowly into the Force, flowing through the ship and its occupants.  Qui-Gon was gone, for now, but Obi-Wan could feel him spreading through his own light existence.  Through the Force, he was then again reminded of Luke.  That boy had been the last buoyant hope in the sea of his despair.  He had believed he was being carried along on his training, on the Code, on Qui-Gon, on Anakin, on Luke.  But suddenly he realized that he was not limping along with these things as his crutches, but rather was carrying them on his back until they weighed him down.  The effect was the same—an uneven, lurching walk—but the knowledge was enlivening.  He would no longer curse his burdens, but respect them, because if he didn't carry them, no one would.


End file.
